


Homemade dinner.

by AuntieKuroNeko



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Grubs, Hollow Knight - Freeform, Not Beta Read, Slice of Life, iselda - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:14:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24598840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuntieKuroNeko/pseuds/AuntieKuroNeko
Summary: The Knight gets some hot food and Iselda has questions.
Kudos: 20





	Homemade dinner.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a small thing I made after some hours of playing, Also, sorry for any mistakes, English is my second language. To those waiting for my KakaIru fic, I'm sorry for the wait it has been, I miss it too, it will be back.

The sound of the fork scraping against the plate was the only thing filling the strange silence. It would be nice if the crickets decided to sing one of their songs, but they were, as most insects of that forsaken land, gone. Iselda looked at him funny, he could say she was curious and anxious for a conversation. 

Perhaps it was due to the long time since her husband was gone, or maybe the fact that she didn’t have a lot of people to keep her company there. He wondered if this was the only reason she invited him for dinner. Sure, he could have said no, but it was a long time since he last ate a hot meal. It wasn’t the most delicious food in the world, being honest - it really wasn’t good at all. But it was food.

“So,” she finally said, as she could keep holding the questions no longer, “Is it still busy down there? Cornifer tell me about those lost lands, and the tales he bring back always make me eager to visit them”

“Hm,” at his answer, or lack of thereof, she visually deflated. Being an educated guest, he thought better of his poor elaboration, “It’s fine”. The addition, he taught, would satisfy her hunger for information.

The thing was, he wasn’t one to tell tales. The things he saw and did were his alone to know, it was enough for him to live them, he wasn’t all that eager to relive it to entertain some bored housewife.

“He tell me about beasts and animals that seem always ready to rip your limbs of to pick their teeth with them”, she tried to keep some excitement in the conversation, monologue, but the imagery it evoked really wasn't the most proper to accompany a meal.

“Never saw then”, he had. But he wasn’t going to tell her that, “Thank you for the food, it was good”, what a utter lie. 

“Cornifer says that he never ate something as good as my food, no matter where he goes”, well, that was in fact true. There was no place in that lost kingdom that served food, at all.

There was Salubra, always eager to cook up something for him, but that really didn’t count. That...thing couldn’t be called food.

“Is true,” he said, wishing she took it for a compliment and didn’t read between the lines, “Thank you, again”.

“Here, take some for the travel”, she said, already packing him some of the food. He didn’t say no, he wasn’t in the habit of saying no to food.

Properly fed and with nourishment packed for days he headed below the city, sure, he could find some play nicer and more comfortable in the sourface, Bretta was - after all - always offering her bed. But is was funny how he found peace amidst of the very insects Iselda thought capable of atrocities, they were more like him.

He dashed thru the old caverns, the humidity and foul smell of the air welcoming him to its embrace, he could hear the tap-tip-scrap of claws against the rock, it was this very sound that lulled him to sleep most nights. He jumped and dashed thru a door, being greeted with cheerful screams of delight. A brief smile curled his lips, seeing the grubs always brought warmth to his empty shell.

He sat near to a quiet one, his most frequent companion. This one was shy, but always had a reassuring gaze and inquiring little sounds that made him think the tiny larvae was asking how he was or where he been.

Taking his time to relax he took a deep breath, cuddling o his little friend when he inched closer. Bringing forward his loyal map he began to sketch his last discoveries, gaze fixed on the lines forming in the paper as if he again travelled thru those paths. Subconsciously he began to doodle a somber insect at a fountain. She was taller than him, a red dress contrasted with the pale of her mask, tall and might horns adorned her face. 

“It's been a while”, he whispered, with his little company winning its complaint when he moved, bothered by the sudden remembrance “Saw her today” he explained when the larvae nuzzled him, demanding explanation, “Well, time to sleep. Have to bring your brother back, don’t I?”

As if in sink sync the little one went back to its little nest, humming happily when he petted it’s head in lieu of goodbye. The in their home he had found a crack on the wall, small enough to keep him warm and safe, big enough to keep him comfortable. He put out his little light, using his cloak to cover his body, allowing the soft breathing and snoring of his friends to pull him into peaceful sleep.


End file.
